


Footloose, Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes

by sagansjagger



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Identity Reveal, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25301635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagansjagger/pseuds/sagansjagger
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is shocked. Shocked!Not a single person in her class can dance, or so she thinks.Well, she's going to change that.---When Marinette gives dancing lessons to everyone in the class, she has a ball. But when she approaches Adrien Agreste, she learns he has a thing or two to teach her instead.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 26
Kudos: 182





	Footloose, Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missnoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missnoodles/gifts), [BLUEMoonMessenger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLUEMoonMessenger/gifts), [SilverMoonSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoonSky/gifts).



“What do you mean you can’t dance?” Marinette shrieked at Alya, who winced and twisted a finger in her ear. “We’re _at a dance_! That’s what you’re supposed to do at one!”

The student council--in which Marinette played a prominent part--had begged Mr. Damocles to let them put together a school-wide dance at Dupont. After gentle pressure from Miss Bustier, the principal had caved, and instructed the students to put together a shindig.

The theme, “Under the Sea,” had been picked. The decorations had been hung. The music had been selected. The air conditioning had even been turned up high, to counteract the oppressive potential heat of a bunch of sweaty teenage bodies moving to the music in an auditorium.

All was going according to plan, and the night of the dance had finally arrived. Everyone was dressed to the nines and ready to boogie. Most students milled around, but some were already cutting a rug on the hardwood floor.

But apparently, to Marinette’s shock, Alya couldn’t dance. 

“Chill out before you burst a blood vessel,” Alya said, laughingly patting Marinette on the shoulder. “I can slow dance and I’m good at that, but that’s about it.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. She raised a shaking finger to point at her friend. “But you’re so graceful! How can you not know how to dance?”

“Practically no one in our class can, lovely,” Alya said, booping Marinette’s nose.

“... No one?” Marinette said, her mouth so wide, she was able to swallow her shock whole.

Processing the news took Marinette a few minutes. A Jagged Stone song--provided by Nino, the resident DJ--blared in her ears, and a smile slowly crept onto her lips. 

“I can dance!” Marinette said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “And I can teach you!” Her eyes widened. “In fact, I can teach the whole class!”

Alya held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up there, Kevin Bacon,” she said, grinning. “You can teach me to dance, sure, but the rest of the class? Isn’t that a little bit ambitious?”

“Just watch,” Marinette said, beaming. “By the end of the night, everyone here will know how! But first, I’ll teach you.”

Alya’s eyes twinkled behind her glasses. “I’m a fast learner.”

“I’m sure you are!” Marinette said, taking her dearest friend’s hands and jumping up and down.

Alya chuckled but didn’t jump. “Okay, okay, Marinette,” Alya said. “Teach me what I need to know.”

“Alrighty!” Marinette said, grinning from ear to ear. Nino played her favorite Clara Nightingale song, which was _perfect_ for teaching Alya to dance. Marinette began to sway, swinging her hips in a slow circle and raising her arms above her head. “First of all, there’s no right or wrong way to dance. You’re expressing yourself through the music, so you should feel free to move in whichever way you desire.”

“Desire being the key word, right?” Alya said, stiffly mimicking Marinette’s moves. 

“Exactly,” Marinette said, shaking her chest and shoulders in a fun, little shimmy. 

Alya laughed again. “I can’t do that!”

Marinette smiled. “You’ll learn. The second step to dancing--actually doing it--is to find the beat. The rhythm. The groove. Try tapping your right foot to the stronger beats and your left foot to the weaker ones.”

Alya tilted her head and listened to the poppy music roll over them as Clara Nightingale sang about dancing being a miracle. The beat wasn’t that hard to pick out, Marinette thought, and thankfully Alya seemed to think the same thing.

“Okay,” she said, tapping her feet. “Now what?”

“Now you move your arms!” Marinette said, taking Alya’s hands in her own and bringing them above their heads. “You can raise the roof, which is great!” Marinette lowered her arms, and Alya mimicked her. “Or you can swing your arms naturally with your feet, bending at your elbows.”

Alya tried. She tried so hard, and that was the problem.

Marinette smiled gently. “Alya, relax,” Marinette said, taking one of her hands and tweaking her fingers. “The point of dancing is to have fun, not to get it right. There _is_ no right way to dance. Just enjoy yourself!”

Alya adjusted her glasses with her free hand. The determined cast to her gaze told Marinette all she needed to know about whether or not Alya would learn to dance that night.

And learn to dance, she did. Soon, she and Marinette were gyrating on the dance floor, doing some fancy footwork and trailing their arms over one another’s. Jagged crooned and the drums slammed in Marinette’s ears as she darted forward, leaning into Alya’s space. Alya instinctively reacted by leaning back, and then jumping forward when it was Marinette’s turn to pull back. 

They had the beat. They had rhythm. They had the groove. 

Marinette was so proud.

But the night wasn’t over yet. She had declared she was going to teach the whole class, and now that Alya was having fun with the music, it was time for Marinette to move on. 

“I need a drink!” she called to Alya, who nodded and threw her hands in the air, raising up on her toes. “And then I’ll teach one of the boys how to dance!”

“Go for it!” Alya said, shimmying, just like she’d earlier claimed she couldn’t do. “I’m gonna stay here!”

Marinette skipped her way over to the refreshments table. She quickly decided to try the lime green punch. She wasn’t on the committee that selected and prepared the food, but Adrien had been, so Marinette wanted to find him before the night was over and thank him for being part of the cohort putting the dance together. 

_Adrien..._ Marinette sighed dreamily, filling her red Solo cup with a healthy serving of green liquid. _Maybe I can teach Adrien to dance, too! Wouldn’t that be romantic? Slow dancing with Adrien…_

“Hey, Marinette,” the boy in question said, raising his hand in a tentative wave.

Marinette jumped out of her skin. “Waaaah!” She floundered with her drink, barely catching the cup as the contents sloshed over onto the floor. She whirled away from him, gasping, and then turned back to him. “A-Adrien! Speak of the devil! Here you’re! You’re here!”

Adrien blinked his grass-green eyes. “You were… speaking of me? To whom?”

Marinette wind-milled her hands, spilling more of her drink. “Well, I wasn’t speaking of you per se, just thinking really hard about you and how handsome you are--not that you’re handsome! But not that you’re not, either, you’re kind of a model, and a really, really good looking one, but not that I think about that all the time or anything--eep, I have no more punch left in my cup, time for a refill, hahaha!”

Adrien looked torn between cringing and laughing. He did both, chuckling a little and wincing, but his smile was soft and genuine. “So I saw you out on the dance floor, and I was wondering--”

Marinette, in the middle of refilling her punch, dropped the ladle and dumped half of the contents of her cup into the punch bowl as she spun to face him. “Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe your father let you come! Isn’t that great? How did you convince him? I thought he was against your being on the council!”

“He was, but…” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “He changed his mind. Said it would be a growth opportunity, and that I should be rewarded for my efforts on the food committee.” The boy smiled a little. “He can be pretty cool.”

With the way Adrien was beaming at her, Marinette had to get away from him before she spontaneously combusted. She drained her plastic cup and tossed it into a giant, gray trash can nearby the refreshments table. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get out there and dance, so I’ll later you see--I mean see you later, A-Adrien!” 

“Okay,” Adrien said, to her hastily retreating back. She tried not to read too much into his disappointed tone. “Bye, Marinette.”

Marinette was back on her mission. She scanned the auditorium, finding out who else to teach how to dance. Alya--whom Marinette had already taught--was chatting with Nino, who was the DJ for the night, so they weren’t options.

Chloe had already had eight years of private dance lessons with Audrey Dupont from the opera, so Marinette probably couldn’t teach her anything, anyway. Plus, she was a bully. Marinette was less than inclined to engage. 

Thankfully, Lila was elsewhere. In Atchoo or something; Marinette didn’t care enough to keep track of her lies. Marinette would feel a lot less comfortable dancing freely if Lila was there. Marinette hated that the other girl had so much power over her--but she wasn’t going to explore that at the moment, she had a mission to take care of.

 _Ah!_ Marinette thought, spotting Nathaniel and Marc milling around in the corner together. Marc was clutching his elbow, his shoulders rounded, and Nathaniel was digging the toes of one foot into the floor. _Perfect!_

She hustled over to them, beaming widely. “Nathaniel! Marc! Why aren’t you dancing? We’re at a dance, after all!”

Marc didn’t say anything, merely ducked behind Nathaniel, who spoke for both of them. “We can’t dance.”

Marinette’s beam became a grin. “I can teach you, if you want?”

They both paled. “Oh, uh,” Marc said, peeking over Nathaniel’s shoulder. “That’s awfully kind of you, but I’m good. I don’t need to learn anything like, um, that.”

Marinette swallowed her disappointment. “How about you, Nathaniel? Can I drag you out onto the dance floor?”

Nathaniel smiled a little. “If it’s for you, Marinette, I… I guess I won’t object,” he said, and turned to his companion. “Is that okay, Marc? I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

Marc’s own smile was soft. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just watch you dance. If it looks fun, I might join in after all.”

Marinette offered her hand to Nathaniel, who took it. She led him onto the floor nearby Marc. “Okay, so the first step to learning how to dance is just to have fun with it. You want to relax into the music, and let it drive you. Just let the songs take over your body and move with them.”

Nathaniel ducked. “That sounds scary. Like akumatization.”

Marinette blanched. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, Nathaniel,” she said, releasing his hand and gently laying it on his shoulder, offering him a firm squeeze. He didn’t shy away from the touch, encouraging her. “I didn’t mean it like that. When dancing, you’re totally in control. But you want to be loose and enjoy the freedom moving around gives you.”

“I guess I can try that, yeah,” Nathaniel said, brightening. “So what’s next?”

“Next, you find the beat.” Nino never played XY songs, but he did play a lot of Jagged Stone. An ode to Fang resounded from the speakers, and Jagged’s drummer was going to town. She laughed. “Maybe we’ll wait for the drum solo to be over.”

“When it’s over,” Nathaniel said, his eyes trailing to Marc, presumably checking if the other boy was okay, “what do I do?”

“You tap your feet to the beat,” Marinette said, showing him how. “One foot for the stronger beats and the other for the weaker beats.”

Nathaniel tried. He kept getting lost, as if he couldn’t focus on both feet at once. He stared at them. “I can’t get it right.”

Marinette hummed. “Hmm. Well, how about you try clapping? Clap for the stronger beat.”

Nathaniel tilted his head, listening to the song. Marinette clapped along to the beat, and he followed. Soon, they were both smiling. 

Marinette nodded her head in time with the music. “Good job, Nathaniel! You found the beat! Next, move your arms. Bend them at the elbows, and swing in time with the song.”

Nathaniel did as he was told, but his arms were as stiff as Alya’s had been. “Like this?”

Marinette raised her arms above her head and swung her hips. “Try loosening up! You’re supposed to enjoy dancing, not fear it,” she said. “Also, don’t forget that your arms are connected to your shoulders, back, and chest. Feel free to move those parts of yourself as well!”

Nathaniel slowly loosened his arms. He swayed back and forth, losing himself in the music. He raised his arms above his head when Marinette did, and mimicked her movements by lowering his hands and shaking them at his sides.

Marinette taught him to bend his knees, let his feet carry him around in small circles, and shake his hips. 

The transformation was stunning. Soon, Nathaniel was dancing--truly dancing--cutting a rug on the hardwood floor. His laughter was infectious, and Marinette giggled with him. 

Marc soon joined them, copying Nathaniel’s movements and jumping up and down when they did. The three of them joined hands, spinning in tight circles and cackling. 

The current song ended, and Nathaniel, Marc, and Marinette released their hands. 

“I think I need a drink,” Marinette said, grinning at the pair of them. All three of them were flushed and slightly sweaty. “You two good to keep going?”

“Yeah!” the boys said together, and then looked at each other. They burst into laughter, leaning on each other.

Marinette gave hugs to each of them, and headed over to the refreshments table.

To her surprise, Adrien was still there. “A-Adrien! Goodbye! I mean, hello!” Marinette said, slapping her cheeks when she realized her mistake. “I mean, hi! How you are doing?” 

“I’m all right,” he said, sipping at his cup of punch. He had a cookie in his left hand, and he’d clearly been nibbling on it. Marinette wondered if that was the only one he would allow himself all night. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great!” Marinette said, her previous glee coming back to her. “Just out there tripping the light fantastic.”

Adrien tilted his head. “What?”

“Dancing!” Marinette said, her hips swaying to the beat of the Muse song despite herself. 

“You looked comfortable out there,” Adrien said, and Marinette stopped moving immediately.

 _Adrien was… watching me dance?_ Her mind stuttered to a stop. She couldn’t fathom _why_ he’d chosen to watch her, of all people. _He had everyone here to choose from, and he’d watched me?_

“Anyway, I was gonna get a drink but now I’m suddenly not thirsty and I should probably go, so night a have nice, Adrien, hahaha!” Marinette said, and fled from the refreshments table, her face burning. _Aaaah, Adrien was watching me!_

“See you, Marinette,” Adrien said from behind her, but she barely heard him.

Marinette found her next targets quickly. She was back on her mission, and could almost put Adrien out of her mind. Juleka and Rose were easy to teach; the purple-haired girl had a great sense of rhythm. Ivan and Mylene declined to learn, enjoying the slow dancing they were doing together. Sabrina stuck around Chloe, and Marinette was reluctant to approach them, so she decided against teaching Sabrina.

Alix was fantastic. She did capoeira moves, and Marinette was amazed when the girl did a handspring into a flip. Marinette applauded her.

Next on the list were Max and Kim. Neither of them knew how to find a beat, and like Alya and Nathaniel, Max was incredibly stiff. Kim was wild, throwing his arms and legs out and almost striking the other dancers.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Marinette said, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to limit your freedom of expression, Kim, but you do need to be considerate of where your limbs go.”

“Sorry, Marinette,” Kim said, looping an arm around Max’s shoulders, who glared and adjusted his glasses. “I’ll behave.”

“I just don’t see the point of dancing,” Max said, huffing as he shoved Kim’s arm off of himself.

“Hmm,” Marinette said, tapping her chin. “Dancing is all about having fun. And Kim is too wild. I think I can solve both problems. I’ll be right back!”

She threaded her way through the crowd to Nino’s DJ booth. “Hi, Nino!” Marinette said, grinning up at him. “Can I request a song?”

“Absolutely, Nettle,” Nino said, matching her grin. “What did you have in mind?”

“The Chicken Dance,” Marinette said conspiratorially. “I want to show Max and Kim how it’s done.”

Nino cackled down at her, and flashed a thumbs up. “You got it, Dudette.”

“Thanks, Nino,” Marinette said, and rushed back to Max and Kim before the current song ended and The Chicken Dance began.

Marinette pinched the air in front of her with both hands at the first notes. “Like this! Try it!”

“No _way_ ,” Kim said, pointing at Marinette and laughing. Marinette grinned.

“I echo that sentiment, Kim,” Max said, furrowing his brow. “What is the point of this?”

“To have fun!” Marinette said, sticking her hands into her armpits and flapping her wings. She bent her knees, waggling her bottom and moving her arms up and down. Then she stood and clapped.

Kim snickered, but he did try the dance. Max rolled his eyes and joined in as well.

The happy notes transitioned into a bridge, and Marinette took four steps to the right and kicked, followed by four steps to the left and a kick. The boys joined her, and she linked arms with both of them.

Then they were back to pinching the air, waggling their bottoms and clapping. They danced the entire song until it slowed down in the end, slowing down with it. The song sped up, and Max and Kim copied Marinette as she also sped up, ending the song by spreading her arms out in front of her as a ‘ta-da!’ pose.

By the end, all three of them were breathless with laughter. Even Max, who had vehemently objected before, seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Thanks, Marinette,” Kim said, wiping a tear from his eye. “That _was_ fun!”

“I have to admit it was,” Max said, beaming at her, his eyes shining behind his glasses.

“Thanks for joining me, guys!” Marinette said, giggling. “I’m famished, so I’ll be at the refreshments table!”

She ran off, but as she approached the table, her step slowed. Adrien was still there, his back turned to her. He was leaning on the table, his hands placed around the punch bowl.

“Adrien?” Marinette said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Adrien turned to her, his eyes widening. Then he smiled gently. “I’m okay, Marinette, thanks,” he said, but his sad tone gave her pause. “Just… hanging out.”

“You don’t sound okay,” Marinette said, frowning. “Can I help you?”

“I…” Adrien started, and then rubbed the back of his neck again. “I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Marinette gave a little gasp and covered her mouth with both hands. _Was he… trying to ask me to dance before?_ She lowered her hands, staring at him. “Did you not want to dance by yourself?”

“I have been, a little,” Adrien said, his gaze darting to the floor. “But it’s… different. Most of the classical dances I know require a partner.”

Marinette’s cheeks flooded with heat. Trying not to think about it, she boldly took his hand. “I could be your partner, if you want.”

Adrien’s eyes flew to meet hers. “You mean it?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I only know a few traditional ballroom dances, and probably not as good as you do, but… we could dance them together.”

Adrien lit up with a smile as pure as sunshine. “Which ones do you know?”

Marinette dropped his hand to count her knowledge off on her fingers. “Cha cha, Swing, Bolero, Rumba…” With each dance she listed, Adrien’s smile grew. “And the Tango.”

“I _love_ the Tango,” Adrien said, holding a hand over his heart. “Can we do them all and save that one for last?”

Marinette laughed. His enthusiasm was taking hold of her heart, and she was feeling giddy. “Sure!” 

Then he did something she did not expect: offered his arm. She took it shyly, and he led her off to Nino’s DJ Booth to request a specific set of songs. Nino gave them his blessing, and Adrien brought Marinette to the middle of the floor, under the shining lights.

They started with the Cha Cha, joining hands and eating up the space on the floor by sliding their opposing feet. He stepped back with his right foot while she stepped forward with her left, effortlessly bobbing their hips out as they moved. He pulled her in close and let her loose, and she raised her hands as she twirled.

Marinette was stunned. Dancing with Adrien was everything she’d ever hoped for and more. They moved seamlessly together, their bodies and minds in total sync. It was as if they’d been partners for years, and she’d just realized it in that moment. 

The only problem was that he wanted to take the lead. She knew that he should--men generally did, in ballroom dance, and that’s the way she’d been taught. But it was so hard for her to let go of control. She’d rarely partnered for dances after learning, because no one knew the classics anymore. Heck, she’d had to teach practically the whole class the basics tonight!

But Adrien was good. So, so good, and dancing with him made warmth shoot throughout her body.

They ended up close together between songs, breathless, though for Marinette it wasn’t from exertion. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, “Trust me.”

She eased into his hold, letting him take the lead, and let her anxiety go.

He placed his hand on her back and took her other hand to start the Rumba. This dance was a slower, box-style dance based on the Waltz, and Marinette found herself mesmerized by the way their hips swung together. She bent and straightened her knees, sliding her feet across the floor as they twirled and pirouetted.

They easily transitioned into East Coast Swing. He spun her, and she whipped her hand out, laughing. Next was the Bolero, a slower, evenly-paced dance with a lot of sliding.

Last, the Tango. Adrien’s favorite, and Marinette’s as well, though she’d never danced it with a partner like him.

The song began. She spun behind him, standing at his back and sliding a hand up his chest. He whirled to face her. Adrien placed his hands on her waist, tugging her close to him. She turned in his hold, leaning her shoulders against his chest and pressing her bottom to his hips. He trailed his fingers delicately along her arm, raising goosebumps on her exposed skin.

Then he spun her, placing a possessive hand on her back. His footwork was flawless, and she followed gladly, driven by primal desire. They met each other as partners, as equals, and as he twirled her body in place, her heart pounded in her ears, almost drowning out the song. 

The beat thrummed within her. All she could think was Adrien, Adrien, Adrien. She slid a hand up his neck, pulling his face to hers as they moved across the dance floor. Their foreheads rested on each other, and their noses brushed. Their lips were inches apart, and she parted hers, willing him to kiss her. She inhaled his air, and tasted the punch on his breath.

Adrien smoothed one hand to her hip and left the other on her ribcage, picking her up in a pirouette. Marinette instinctively flung her legs out, spread eagled, so he could spin them both around and place her back on her feet. 

Another spin, another twirl, and he dipped her low, gently but firmly supporting her by a hand splayed on her back. Marinette lifted her leg, her thigh brushing against his waist, and he cupped a hand under her knee. She was panting. _Kiss me,_ she thought, desperately wanting to close the distance as she stared up into his gorgeous, green eyes. _Please._

He leaned forward, looking like he was about to go for it, when the auditorium erupted in cheers. Heat bloomed in Marinette’s cheeks for an entirely different reason. He lifted her without any difficulty at all, and if she hadn’t been so busy being embarrassed by her classmates, Marinette would have marveled at the strength in his lean arms.

Her skin was sensitized, so everywhere his fingers rested--her waist, her arms, the small of her back just below her ribs--was electrified. Adrien seemed to not want to let her go, despite Alix, Max, and Kim congratulating them for being awesome.

Nino made an announcement over the PA system. “The winners of the dancing contest, Adrien and Marinette!”

More cheers sounded around them. But their classmates soon lost interest, and drifted to the corners of the room.

Marinette couldn’t take her eyes off of Adrien. His chest was heaving, and he wore the most appealing shade of pink in his cheeks. His lips looked kiss-swollen, and his hair was mussed. She’d never seen him more attractive.

He turned his head to look at her, and as if realizing he’d forgotten to release her from his hold, carefully removed his hands. With his warmth having left her, Marinette’s body was cold where his fingers had once trailed fire. 

“Did you know,” he started, licking his beautiful, beautiful lips, “that there was a dancing contest?”

“No!” Marinette said, wind-milling her hands again. “I think Nino made that up!”

“Congratulations,” Adrien said, capturing her hand and brushing his lips to her knuckles, “to us.”

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat. He was looking at her with so much longing that she felt like she was going to combust on the spot. _Hot,_ she thought, gasping again. _He’s so hot!_

Then he made a mistake.

He released her, eyes twinkling, and did an expert moonwalk. It looked familiar.

Too familiar.

Suddenly, them being in sync made too much sense. She knew him. She _knew_ him. He really was her partner. Her jaw dropped. She had to confirm it. “W-What are you doing?” 

“Acting natural,” he said, beaming at her.

Marinette slammed one hand onto her cheek and pointed at him with the other. “You’re Chat-tastic! I mean, you’re fan-Noir! I mean, _you’re fantastic_!”

Adrien stilled. His breath hitched twice. He looked stunned, he looked floored, he looked like he was about to cry. He took a tentative step forward and whispered, “My Lady?”

Marinette sucked a breath over her teeth. She lowered her hand, resting it on his shoulder. “Chat?” she whispered back. “Is it really you?”

Adrien broke into a grin so wide, his eyes narrowed in pleasure. “It _is_ you.”

He picked her up and swung her around, whooping gleefully. She laughed, giddy again. Adrien set her down, but slipped back into holding her against him, one hand spread on her back. He took her other hand in his. 

“I only have one question,” Adrien said, dipping her low. 

She blinked up at him, sliding her hand up to his shoulder to let him better support her. “Yes, Chat?” 

Chat swallowed. He was obviously nervous, though after that tango, she didn’t know why he’d be shy again. “Dance with me, my Lady?”

Marinette had no words. She kissed him instead.

He kissed back.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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> 
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